Christina’s POV

"Are you tired?" I asked Hudson, watching him stare at the ceiling.

He made a noncommittal sound that could’ve meant anything.

"Too tired to have sex with your wife?" I teased, sliding my hand across his chest.

In one swift motion, he rolled over, his powerful body hovering above mine, those piercing eyes locked on my face. "You want it?"

"Why wouldn’t I?" I challenged with a smirk.

"But you said you needed a break."

"When did I say that?" I blinked innocently.

"This morning. At 9:15. When you kicked me out of bed."

I laughed, genuinely surprised. "You remember the exact time? What, are you keeping a spreadsheet of my rejections?"

"Hmm." His eyes darkened as he traced a finger along my collarbone. "So, yes or no?"

"If I say no, would you really just go to sleep and not touch me?"

"I respect your wishes," he said seriously, but his eyes burned with desire and his hands were already sliding under my nightgown.

"That doesn’t sound like the Alpha I married," I teased, looping my arms around his neck and pulling him closer. "Let’s try something different tonight."

His nightstand buzzed loudly, shattering the moment.

Hudson cursed under his breath, pulled back reluctantly, and grabbed his phone. "This had better be important," he growled into the receiver.

Whatever the caller said made him tense immediately. He swung out of bed with Alpha speed. "I’ll be there right away," he said, hanging up.

I watched him pull on clothes with military efficiency. "Who was that?"

"A business associate." He leaned down to kiss me briefly. "I might be late. Don’t wait up."

Business associate? At this hour?

I stared at the door as it clicked shut behind him, my body still tingling from his almost-touch.

Why didn’t he give me a name?

And I could’ve sworn I heard a woman’s voice on the phone.

"He’s hiding something," Akira growled softly.

"Let’s not jump to conclusions," I replied mentally, though the seed of doubt had already been planted.

I tried to wait up, determined to ask him about this mysterious midnight caller, but exhaustion won the battle.

Half-conscious, I felt warm arms wrap around me sometime later. I cracked one eye open to see Hudson’s face, stubble darkening his jaw.

"Go back to sleep," he murmured.

I wanted to ask about his urgent business, but sleep dragged me under before I could form the words.

The alarm jolted me awake hours later.

Eyes still shut, I groped blindly for my phone on the nightstand.

Hudson reached over and silenced it. "Still early. Sleep more."

And like the sucker I am for five more minutes, I did exactly that.

When I finally woke again, his side of the bed was cold and empty.

I grabbed my phone and groaned. Past nine-thirty.

Shit, that was beyond late.

If I weren’t my own boss at the jewelry design studio, I’d have fired myself on the spot.

I rushed through brushing my teeth, washing my face, and throwing on clothes before dashing downstairs.

Hudson sat calmly at the breakfast table, looking fresh and put-together. "Morning."

"You should’ve woken me," I complained, grabbing a coffee mug. "I need to get to the studio early today."

"Take the day off. You’re the boss." He pulled out a chair for me with that casual dominance that still made my stomach flutter. "Sit. Eat first."

He watched me intently while I ate, which only heightened my growing irritation.

Ten hours since that mysterious call. He’d left in the middle of the night, right when we were about to get down to business, and still hadn’t offered a single explanation.

I didn’t want to be that clingy, insecure wife who monitored her husband’s every move. But when your husband walks out at midnight, doesn’t give you a name, and completely skips the explanation part, you’re entitled to some curiosity, right?

If it had been Dominic, his Beta, or any of his assistants calling, he would’ve said so without hesitation.

So who the hell was it?

"Just ask him," Akira urged.

"And look like I don’t trust him?" I countered.

Maybe he wasn’t hiding anything. Maybe he’d forgotten. Maybe he just didn’t think it important enough to explain.

I knew if I asked directly, he’d probably answer.

But what if I asked, and he still refused?

I stabbed at my eggs with my fork, my thoughts becoming more tangled with every bite.

Morning, pre-second-coffee was definitely not the time for this kind of emotional detective work.

I forced down another mouthful, waiting for Hudson to say something first.

He didn’t.

When our painfully silent breakfast finally ended, I shoved my chair back and stood.

"I’ll drive you," he said, standing too.

"No need. I’ve got my car. The studio’s nowhere near your office anyway."

"I can drop you first. It’s not much of a detour."

"No thanks. I wouldn’t want you to waste time, not when your company’s so busy you’re taking calls in the middle of the night." I thought my hint was pretty damn obvious.

He let it slide completely, his face unreadable.

I left the house feeling oddly deflated, though I couldn’t quite pinpoint why. Was I overreacting? Being paranoid?

I drove aimlessly through Highrise City until a new mall caught my eye, one that had opened last month with considerable fanfare.

In my current mood, I wasn’t going to get much work done anyway, so I circled back to park. The mall had to have a jewelry shop or two, and I needed the distraction—maybe even some inspiration for new designs.

I walked into Verris & Co., scanning their display cases with professional interest.

"Can I see this one?" I asked the woman behind the counter, pointing to a bracelet with an unusual clasp mechanism that had caught my designer’s eye.

"Of course." She opened the case, removed it carefully, and was about to hand it over when someone snatched it from her fingers.

"I’ll take this."

I turned, irritation flaring. Who just grabs something someone else was clearly looking at?

The woman with the grabby hands had shocking pink hair and enough jewelry layered on her body to open her own boutique.

I’d never seen her before in my life.

But then I saw who walked in behind her, and suddenly everything made perfect sense.